


Conditioning

by Dreadful Weather Today (TearoomSaloon)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Dark, Dark Will, I don't know what my life has come to, M/M, Master/Servant, Stockholm Syndrome, he's a broken pony more like it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/Dreadful%20Weather%20Today
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh please, please, tell him what to do, doctor. You've conditioned him, this is what he's meant to do, so tell him. Tell him, touch him, tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conditioning

**Author's Note:**

> I've lost control of my life.

_Conditioned._

His muscles were conditioned. His breath, his head, the twitches in his fingers. He’d been taught how to dance and now knew nothing but those few, short steps. He sat in the darkness, the nothingness, with only his mind, ever-darkening and shattered. What he was, he no longer knew.

He was a captive, but he needed his captor to survive.

The slow fingers on his shoulders would calm him to sleep, the deep voice against the violins a sweet lullaby. He would drift to faraway islands, his head cradled in his master’s hands.

 _You are a beast_.

It was nearly all his ears heard, the sentence branded onto his brain. He was a beast. He was made for this. He _was_ this, tingling teeth and itching bones. The lust, the frenzy, the hunger, the hunger—

He liked the taste of blood on his tongue, acidic and rusty, tangy and sour. It warmed him inside, the heat of a kill passing from body to body, breath to breath, touch to touch. The touch he craved, caved into, called for.

Touch him, touch him, _touch him_.

Praise him for his acts. He did well, didn’t he? Flesh between his teeth, hands covered in a kill. Wasn’t he good, Doctor? Wasn’t he grand?

 _Oh, he was_.

He was, said the hands. He’d been marvelous, and would be rewarded. Fingers on his body, fingers down his back, fingers through his hair. He liked the bites best of all, pain and pleasure on his skin, through his veins. Marks on his neck, marks on his chest, marks on his inner thighs. He wasn’t allowed to make marks; the pet could not mark the master, or he was punished. Punished with the chains again, punished by denial.

His master would build him up, up, up to the heavens, arousal painful and blinding, sucking everything from his body until—nothing. A halt. Then pain. The worst, unyielding pain. He’d whimper, useless pet.

Lips dragged across his throat, and he knew he was to be tasked. His master always asked a favor with his lips, delicate and feathery, never satisfying his need. His breath came too fast and he cried out at his punishment, hands too rough on his body, his _sensitive_ —

The command was simple. If he did it well—the thumb on his head told all, bending him to his master’s will.

 _Yes, yes_ , he moaned, chains barring him from responding to the touch.

His master smiled, letting him come to release, a show he would be true to his word. He was always true to his word. He released his pet from his chains, letting him fall to his knees before retiring upstairs.

He returned hours later, wet blades in hands, his body drenched in blood. It dripped from his glasses, his hair, his fingertips. He was still short of breath from the adrenaline; his head clouded and mind in overdrive, feeling nothing but the frenzy.

His master pressed his sharp teeth into his neck, eliciting a monstrous growl. He stripped him bare, letting the bloody clothes fall to his polished wood floor. He forced him onto all fours.

 _You are a beast and I will take you like a beast_.

Pleasure and pain swelled inside as he swelled, his body too small and too raw. His mane fell into his eyes with the sharp motions, his arms too shaky to support his weight, prematurely losing himself. He was chided, tied up, and thrown onto his back, legs braced against the footboard. His back arched into the light touch on his thighs, the hot breath on his member overloading his heightened senses.

_Are you going to behave this time?_

Yes, master.

_Yes, yes, yes, yes._


End file.
